The Hot Momma Raising a Family with The Bakery Clerk
by CoffeeWritingAddiction
Summary: Lorna and Nicky have a handful with raising their two children - Ronny and Lola. But what happens when Ronny starts suffering with the same mental illness as his mother? How will the family cope in finding out that he, too, was abused as an infant? And with Lorna's deranged older brother out on the loose, how will they keep their family out of harm's way? (Sequel to the last story)


**Author's Note: Just in case you forgot, this - too - was also originally posted under my other username (HannahMiley1fan). This is the fourth and final story in the Hot Momma series and is a sequel to The Hot Momma in Wedlock with The Bakery Clerk (as The Hot Mommas Celebrate Mother's Day was really just a short special...I guess lol). This will have five more chapters, all ranging between 10,000 and 15,000 words per each chapter. And so far, I have yet to start on chapter two.**

 **Disclaimer: (Almost forgot) I do not own the show or characters. All I own is the story, writing, and my three OCs - Ronny, Lola, and Nita as well as all of Lorna's and Ronny's alters.**

 **Warnings: Still contains angst/dark and mature themes. References to Lorna's past child abuse/sexual abuse as well as Ronny's (who, you will find out, is now a teen). Deals heavily with mental illness-D.I.D (Dissociative Identity Disorder).**

* * *

 _The Hot Momma Raising a Family with the Bakery Clerk_

Her little baby boy just received his driver's license, Lorna can hardly believe it. She can't believe her Ronny boy is a sixteen-year-old teenager that nearly towers over her in height. The day of his birth, she never could have imagined that he would grow to be so tall—he only weighed a measly six pounds. Now, he's a healthy young teen who refuses either of his mothers to call him 'Ronny boy' – _it's too childish_. _But you'll always be my Ronny boy,_ Lorna continuously reminds him with a smile. And that's absolutely true, no matter how old her son gets she will most definitely always refer to him as her Ronny boy, whether he likes that or not.

"I'm so happy Ronny got his license—ya know why, momma?" Lola cheerfully asks, plopping down on the couch beside Lorna. Her brown eyes bat innocently up at the curious mother. "He can drive me and Nita to the mall and stuff! It's gonna be so much fun this summer," she exclaims, smirking over at her brother once he comes in the living room.

Shaking his head, Ronny rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at his younger sister's head. "I ain't drivin' none a ya around, Lola. I got my girlfriend to impress—there's no way I'll have her find out I'm forced to lug my little sister around with her friends," he irritatingly answers. There's no way he'll let his mothers talk him into agreeing to such circumstances. This is his first summer that he can drive and, surely, it won't be spent taking his sister on petty outings with that obnoxious best friend of hers.

With her arms folded firmly over her chest, Nicky gives a stern stare towards her son. She sips her cup of coffee, "And, uh, what exactly are ya gonna be driving? I'm pretty sure ya don't got your own car…and we only got one between the four of us. Ya might wanna postpone impressing that girl a yours until ya somehow manage to get a car."

Lorna nervously smiles over at her wife. She knows once she informs her of the news, she'll be one less person in the world. "Well, we might just be the owner of a new car…or technically, _used_ car. I know, I know you're gonna be mad but it was real cheap and Ronny promises to get a job and chip on the payment. Besides, we needed to get a second car eventually, hon," she gently says with a small laugh.

Disbelievingly, Nicky gets up from her chair and yanks Lorna down the hall to their bedroom—shutting the door harshly behind them. Her face reddens as she gives a cold stare to her wife. "What the fuck, Lorna? How could ya fuckin' buy a car without even talking it over with me first?" She shakes her head in anger, folding her arms over her chest.

"I-I'm sorry, hon…you're right, I shoulda mentioned it to ya first…but I just I want Ronny to be happy. He's really had a good year and I want him to feel appreciated for his work," the brunette softly says, looking sadly up at her wife. She hates that she feels a bit of fear at the older woman's yelling, especially when she knows Nicky doesn't really mean it. Her legs instinctively move her farther back from her wife, which immediately causes guilt to rise within herself.

Nicky sighs and feels her heart ache at the fear that seems to faintly cover Lorna's face. Instantly, she regrets being so hard on her about it and pulls her wife into her arms. "Baby, I didn't mean to scare ya—ya know I love you and would never intentionally hurt you. But ya know, stuff like this—major purchases, ya can't just make them and hope that I'm okay with it. You have to talk it over with me first. How much was this car anyway?"

Wrapping her own arms around the taller woman's neck, Lorna gives a tender kiss to her lips and smiles sheepishly. "It was only a couple grand. And Ronny promises he'll help us pay for it—he's looking to get a job at the coffee shop down the street from the bakery. I'm real sorry I didn't talk to ya about it before buying it but it was an impulsive buy," she bats her eyes innocently up at her wife, hoping to make her forget about it.

"Why would he wanna work at the coffee shop when he can easily work at the bakery with me? He'd be hired on the damn spot for fuck's sake," Nicky shakes her head in disbelief. She smiles, though, looking down at her wife with a deep love seeping out of her big brown orbs. Her fingers brush delicately along the skin of her forehead.

Lorna just shrugs and pulls the taller woman down on the bed with her. She kisses her softly on the lips, staring up at her with a warm smile. "Oh, ya know how Ronny is—he don't want his _cool high school friends_ seeing him work with his mom. That's _definitely not cool_ in his book. And I'm pretty sure he's mentioned a few times how that girlfriend of his works as a barista or somethin' there. I wish he'd bring her home so we could meet her," her voice trails off at the end. She's beginning to wonder if their son might just be ashamed for his girlfriend to meet the two of them. The thought alone makes her feel a bit queasy.

Tucking Lorna's brown curls behind her ears, Nicky cups her hands lovingly around her cheeks. Her eyes peer warmly into the Italian woman's, "I'm sure he will, kid. Just gotta give him time. I mean they _have_ only been dating like what—a whole fuckin' week? Who knows, it probably won't last long. Ya know how high school relationships are, yeah?"

"It better not last just a week! My Ronny boy deserves a true relationship—this little girl better not think to toy around with my son or she'll have another thing comin'," Lorna fiercely speaks.

Nicky smirks, pulling the brunette on top of her and hotly kissing her on the lips. "I'd love to see what ya'd do, babe. Just the thought of you bein' all tough gives me the tingles, kid," she purrs, her breath warm against Lorna's mouth.

* * *

With her children in school and her wife working that very next day, Lorna gets to work on preparing dinner. She takes a pound of fresh tomatoes out of the fridge and rinses them in the sink. Once they're all wet, she places them on the cutting board she already has sitting on the counter. Getting the peeler out of the cupboard, she's about to begin peeling the skins off when the sound of the doorbell going off catches her attention.

Setting aside her materials, Lorna quickly makes her way to the door and opens it. Her heart pounds alarmingly fast when she comes face to face with none other than Vinny. "W-what the hell? W-why are ya here? I-I haven't seen ya since-since—"

"Since the day that devilish alter of yours stabbed me?" He glares darkly down at her, harshly pushing his way into her house. "You're lucky I didn't die—coulda ended up living the resta your life out in prison. Oh, wait, ya made your brother take the wrap for you, didn't ya? I heard about that one, ya little coward! And believe me once the police came to question me, I made sure that they knew your brother didn't do a thing to me. I told them I did it, because why should an innocent man like poor Mikey Morello waste a way in prison when it was really his selfish little sister who hurt me?"

His words echo in her ears. Lorna can barely function; she stands there in a statue-like stance. There's no way what she's hearing can be true. Her brother cannot be roaming the streets. Not again. Her mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out. A headache starts to form and she gratefully allows one of the alters to take control—she can't process any of this right now.

"You need to leave. Right now. You're not welcome on this property, Vince," Ella's voice firmly declares as her usually soft brown eyes glare darkly towards the man in front of her. "What reason do you have to come here now—many years after the fact—and tell Lorna this? You just want to scare her and ruin her life? This can't be about Ronny. You have no rights to him anymore; so, what the hell do you want?"

Rolling his eyes, Vinny shakes his head. "Just thought I'd give a fair warning that her brother might just be planning a visit over here in the future. He's not too happy with her. I wouldn't be either—that little pussy blamed him for what she did, _what all of you_ little demented fragments of life did! And believe me, whoever the fuck you are, I always have rights to my son. I don't care what I gotta do, I will get him back. No more nice guy here," he growls at her.

Ella grabs him by the shoulders, pushing him back towards the door. But before she completely pushes him out of the house, she stares up at him with venom shinning through her orbs. "You have no rights to Ronald. You will not get him back and if ya even try, Lola will hunt you down and finish you off for good. Now, get the hell out and don't even think about coming back!" She throws him roughly out of the house and locks the door shut.

* * *

It's nearly two-thirty in the afternoon when Ronny arrives home from school. He immediately throws his bookbag to the ground and takes his shoes off. The sound of very faint crying has him follow towards it cautiously. He becomes concerned when he sees that it's his mother who is crying. Slowly, he walks over to her and taps her gently on the shoulder. "Mom? Why are ya cryin'? Are you in pain or something?"

Hearing her son's voice, Lorna immediately wipes her tears before turning to face him. She places a soft smile on her face and shakes her head. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just the onions I'm chopping up for supper. How was school, Ronny?" Her arms envelop around him in a tight hug; she gives a motherly kiss to his head.

Ronny sighs, staring at her with a skeptic eye. "Ya sure that's all it is, mom? I ain't a kid no more; if something's wrong with you, ya can tell me. And besides, there ain't even any onions in this kitchen," he points out while folding his arms over his chest.

"Look, Ronny, it's nothing ya gotta worry about. Just tell me about your day—did ya hear anything from that coffee shop yet?" Lorna ruffles a hand lovingly through his thick curls of hair and gives him one last squeeze before going back to cooking.

" _It is_ for me to worry about—you're my damn mother, you gave me life…I hate seeing ya cry, mom, and I have the right to know what's causing ya to. So, either ya tell me or I'll call ma and tell her she needs to get home right away," he firmly answers, grabbing his phone out of his shirt pocket to show that he's serious.

Lorna inwardly gulps; there's no way she can mention the chaos that took place here only hours ago. "Momma's just a little emotional right now. It's a women thing, Ronny. Ya should know what I mean now that you've had the puberty talk," she lies through her teeth but knows that's her best option. She sighs sadly, stirring the sauce on the burner.

"TMI, mom, _TMI!_ Ya coulda just stopped after the 'women thing'," the teenager scrunches up his face in fake disgust. "And, uh, about the coffee shop—I got the job, I start next week. Anyway, I'm gonna go to my room and get started on my homework. Holler when dinner's ready!" He quickly takes off down the hall towards his bedroom.

* * *

Nicky sits in the car, with the music blasting, as she waits for her daughter to come out of the school. She's too into the song when she hears the back-door open and hears two very loud middle-schoolers getting into her car. Immediately, she turns the music down and stares back at them. "Hmm, that's funny—I don't remember ya asking mom and I if you could invite Nita over tonight, Lola. Especially seeing that it's a school night," she slowly says, giving her a firm look through the rearview mirror.

"Oh, come on—please, ma, she's real lonely at home! Her mom and dad went on a business trip or something—so she'd be home all by herself. Please, can she stay over tonight? I promise we won't stay up late or nothin'. Ya won't even know she's here," Lola peers up at her mom with her big brown eyes and a sweet smile spread on her face.

Sighing, the redhead slowly nods her head as she starts driving out of the school parking lot. She looks between the two girls, her eyes lingering on Nita with empathy shinning on her face, "Your parents just left ya home by yourself? They do know that's illegal, yeah? No relatives are staying with ya or anything, kid?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Nita just laughs it off. "Eh, it's no big deal—they go on business trips every month and leave me here. I don't mind, I like getting the house to myself. And no, I don't have any relatives around here. Just me and my parents," she nonchalantly replies, a smile on her face.

"You're a child, Nita, you can't be left alone. That's illegal and can get your parents in a lotta trouble. You'll stay with us until they get back," Nicky sternly declares, shaking her head in disbelief.

Lola and Nita squeal excitedly while looking at each other with two huge grins on their faces. " _Awesome_ —we get to pretend we're sisters for a whole week, Nita! And we can pull all kinds a pranks on Ronny," she eagerly shrieks, grabbing her friend's hands and squeezing them tight.

Nodding her head in agreement, Nita lets out a laugh, "I have a whole list of pranks we can try out. It's gonna be a real fun week at your house!"

* * *

A ten-minute drive later has the three of them finally arrive home with Nicky following behind them to the door. She watches as the two girls—hand-in-hand—skip happily into the house before she goes in less enthusiastically after. Upon entering the house, she finds herself being pulled into the kitchen by none other than Ronny. Surprised would be a bit of understatement. She stares up at him with a worried expression, "Ya need somethin', Ronny?"

"I need you to find out what's bothering mom. I heard her crying in here when I got home from school and she says it's just a _women thing_ but I don't believe her," he nearly begs the older woman, his brown eyes pouring into hers with a deep concern.

Nicky's eyes soften, she exhales deeply and makes her way cautiously back into the living room. She sees her wife sitting on the couch, her eyes glued to the television screen, and gently pulls her up from it. Her arms wrap protectively around her waist as she slowly guides her in the direction of their bedroom. "What do ya say the two of us go cuddle in bed for a bit? Ya definitely look like ya could benefit from some tlc, kid," she softly says against her ear. She opens the door to their room and carefully lays her wife in the bed before she goes back to close it.

Getting in beside Lorna, her arms envelop tight around her—pulling her to lay up against her chest. Her lips press warmly onto her forehead, "How was your day, baby? Everything okay? Ya look a bit drained, Lorna…what's the matter?" Nicky lets her hands brush slowly through her wife's brown waves of hair as her eyes peer softly into hers.

Lorna lets out a sigh but snuggles closer into the taller woman's body, kissing her gently on the neck. "It's nothin', hon. It's just that time of the month is all. Nothing for you to be worrying about, love," she sheepishly responds, her arms wrapping lovingly around her wife.

"Come on, baby, you know you can't fool me," the redhead gently starts off. Her eyes gaze heavily down into Lorna's. "And, apparently, ya can't fool Ronny either, kid. He's practically begged me to find out what's wrong with you. And believe me, Lorna, I will find out the culprit of your tears. I will not let you leave my arms until ya tell me what's bothering you."

Exhaling a deep breath, Lorna gives a defeated nod. "Just promise me ya won't get mad or nothin'," she slowly says, her brown eyes peering up at the redhead's in desperation. Yet, deep inside, she knows her wife can't make such a promise – not when it comes to Vinny or the mentions of her older brother, Nicky outright loathes the two of them for everything they've done to Lorna.

Peppering her forehead in gentle kisses, Nicky gazes softly down at her. Her fingers trace lovingly down the outline of her face. "Why would I be mad, Lorna? What happened?" She brushes a hand gently through her hair and continues to stare into her eyes with compassion.

"Well, uh, let's just say a certain somebody came to visit this afternoon and—I kinda went and hid in my headspace," the brunette guiltily answers, keeping her eyes anywhere but in the direction of her wife's.

"Just who the hell was it that came here? Don't fuckin' tell me it was Vinny—that piece of shit hasn't bothered ya in years, what reason does he have to come now? Didn't Lola scare him away for good?! What did he say to you, Lorna? He musta said some real awful shit for you to willingly let one of your alters out!"

Lorna inwardly gulps. She can't bring herself to mention anything about her brother—it makes her feel absolutely sick inside to even think about him; plus, she knows it won't do any good getting her wife all riled up about it. "Oh ya know, the usual…how he plans to take Ronny away from us, even though he lost his rights to him a long time ago. He kept going on and on about it and I just—I couldn't handle it. But I think it was only Ella who came out, I didn't see any trails of blood or nothin' after coming back," she fails terribly at her attempt of a joke.

Shaking her head furiously, Nicky tightens her arms around Lorna and kisses her softly on the head. "Well sucks for him cause' he ain't ever getting Ronny—he's _our_ son. _Fuck_ Vinny, it's a shame he didn't die. So, he didn't do anything to ya? Aside from verbally fucking attacking ya like he's known for, of course. I swear to God, I'd kill him if I could. I'm sick of that sleazebag coming in your life and hurting ya, kid."

"I'm just glad Ronny doesn't ask about him much anymore. He doesn't need that man in his life—it's not like Vinny actually cares about him, anyway, he only wants my little boy to make my life hell. I know how he is. And I'm done with him; ya think there's a way we can get a restraining order on him, Nicky?"

Running her fingers delicately through the shorter woman's brown hair, Nicky cradles her face in her hands and gives a soothing kiss to her lips, "That's exactly why he's doing it—to fuckin' hurt ya, because he's an asshole. We can sure as hell try to get one. I think that would be a really smart idea, baby. I don't like the idea of his coming here when you're all alone, anyway."

* * *

An hour later, the five of them settle into the dining room table for the nice meal Lorna spent all afternoon preparing. "Lola, I didn't know Nita was coming home with ya tonight…did ya ask ma last minute or somethin'?" Lorna wonders, staring between her daughter and the blonde-haired friend beside her.

"Well, _her ma_ insisted I spend the whole week here," Nita bluntly answers, happily digging into her plate of food. "Ya see, my parents kinda left me behind when they went on their business trip. Lola was nice enough to offer for me to come over tonight—I sure hope it's not a problem, Mrs. Lola's mom? I just can't stand to be all alone in my parents' big scary house." She bats her eyes innocently up at her best friend's mother, curling her bottom lip to complete the look.

Her heart sinks somewhat on the inside. How could this little girl's parents just go on their business trip and leave her all by herself? What kind of parents do such a thing? Sipping her drink, Lorna places a soft smile on her face and shakes her head, "Oh, of course that's not a problem. You're always welcome here, sweetie. How come your parents didn't have anyone stay with you, though? That's not okay for them to do that—they can get in a lotta trouble for leaving you by yourself."

Twirling her fork around her noodles, Nita shrugs her shoulders. "Don't got any family here. Mom wanted me to come cause' ya know, she don't want to leave me home alone but my dad—he's a real asshole sometimes. Oh, _sorry_ , I mean he's a big jerk sometimes and told mom that little girls like me can't get outta school for a week just to avoid being left without em'. So, here I am," she laughs, putting a forkful of pasta into her mouth.

Nicky can't help but laugh at this girl's bluntness. It reminds her of— _well_ —herself. "Damn, kid, ya really have no filter do ya? Eh, I never really did either when I was your age. And, anyway, your dad is wrong on that one—it's more important ya not be home alone than if ya miss one measly week of school. I mean, geez, they coulda at least just talked to us and worked it out so that you could stay here while they're gone."

"It don't matter now, anyway. Nita's here for the week, regardless," Lola declares, staring over at them with a grin on her face. "Ronny's got two sisters now! It's gonna be so much fun—come on, Nitz, let's go back to my room and plot ways to annoy him!" She stuffs the last bite of food into her mouth and goes over to drag her friend with her down the hall.

Left with only her wife and son, Lorna lets her eyes linger on him for a few minutes. She takes a small bite of her dinner, clearing her throat somewhat loud. "Ya got anything ya wanna talk about, Ronny? How's school?" Her voice tenderly questions.

"School's school. Not much to it," is his curt response. His eyes never leave his plate.

Lorna sighs, staring him over in concern. "Come on, sweetie, be a little more specific than that. Are ya going to prom with anyone special this year? Like that girlfriend you have yet to introduce your ma and I to?"

Ronny groans and rolls his eyes. He hates when his mother brings this up. Why does she always have to pester him about his girlfriend? "Mom, please, don't do this again. I said I'll bring her home when I feel the time is right. Stop asking me about her! It's really getting on my nerves," he nearly shouts, slamming his fist on his plate.

"When the time is right? Ronny, for crying out loud, she's a high school girlfriend—it's not like she's your soulmate or anything, ya don't gotta wait around and make everything perfect for her. This is one of many girlfriends you will have in life, just bring her home so we can meet her," Lorna impatiently cries out.

" _No_ ," Ronny shakes his head. His eyes darken as he stares across the table at his mother. "She's not just some fuckin' high school girlfriend, mom! I-I really love her—she _is_ my soulmate. I can feel it. I want everything to be perfect for her—she's the most amazing person I've ever met. I do want her to meet my two favorite mothers…but-but she kinda doesn't know that I have two moms. And it scares me to tell her, yet alone have her come here and see ya guys in person."

Getting up from her chair, Lorna walks over to her son and takes his head into her arms. She cradles it lovingly against her chest while running her hand soothingly through his short thick curls. "If ya really love her that much, then ya gotta tell her the truth. I know it's scary, sweetheart, but ya gotta be honest with her. And if she knows what's good for her, she'll be accepting of it no matter what. You're a sweet, sweet boy and any girl will be lucky to have ya as their boyfriend, my little Ronny. But ya gotta be a little more assertive and make sure she don't take advantage of your loving nature. Ya hear that, my love?"

"I-I'm not sure she'll be too thrilled to hear about my two moms…her dad's a pastor at her church and she's, ya know, real close with him. So, I can guarantee she's not okay with this kinda stuff. And I just—if I bring her here to meet ya both, I'd feel real bad if she said something offensive. That's why I don't ever bring her here…I don't want her to upset either of you," the brunette teenager sheepishly responds, his brown eyes staring down at his nearly empty plate.

Sipping her soda, Nicky lets out a small chuckle and averts her eyes over to her son. "Her dad's a pastor? I'm surprised he hasn't come knocking our door down to kill ya for dating his daughter," she lightly jokes with a playful smirk on her face.

Lorna gives a hard glare towards her wife and shakes her head. She sighs, turning back to her son; she stares down at him with compassion seeping through her own eyes. "If she can't accept that, then maybe she's not for you. She got a mind a her own, she don't gotta listen to what her _daddy_ says all the time—and I'll tell ya what, Ronny boy, if she stops liking ya just because of who your parents are, she ain't worth your love."

* * *

In the late evening, as the sun makes it way beneath the horizon, Ronny sits at his computer desk and stares heavily down at his notebook. The handwriting isn't his, he notices, and that alarms him somewhat. What bothers him even more is the message it reveals. _Hi, Ronny…just, uh, thought I'd introduce myself to you (finally). My name's Kieran and I'm one of your alters—meaning I kinda live inside your mind. You probably will be confused when you read this, but I figured it's time you find out about me – rather_ all of us _who live inside of you._ Ronny can't believe his eyes—what does this Kieran person mean that he's living inside him, and hinting that there's more? Alter? He shakes his head and slams his notebook shut, tossing it aside. There's no way—absolutely no way—that he could possibly have his own set of alters. His childhood has always been so happy and full of love—at least that's how he remembers it. He certainly would be the first to know if he endured something traumatic, wouldn't he?

* * *

Early the next morning, Ronny's eyes pop open and look around his room in confusion. He immediately jumps out of bed, leaving quickly to run into the bathroom. Flicking the light on, he stares at his reflection in the mirror with a bit of shock. "I'm actually on the outside," his voice noticeably different as he continues to just stare at himself. A small smile spreads at the realization and he happily starts the water for a shower.

After he's showered and dressed, he walks out of the bathroom and down the hall to the kitchen. Lorna and Nicky are sitting at the dining room table with coffee—in the midst of a conversation. He sighs, not sure how to avoid being seen by them; there's no way he can face them yet, not when he has no clue how to go about explaining who he is to them.

"You're up extra early this morning," Lorna says once she notices her son's presence. She smiles, slowly sipping on her fresh cup of coffee. "Ya sleep good, Ronny?"

The brunette son nods his head but exhales a deep breath. "There's something I should probably tell you, and I'm not entirely sure either of you will believe me," he nervously starts off, sitting himself down in one of the chairs. "My name is not Ronny…it's Kieran—I, I kinda live inside his head. This is the first time he's ever let me out…well, granted, he's never known I've existed."

The two women share a worried look before they stare back at him. Lorna can hardly believe what she's hearing. Kieran? What is this supposed to mean? Is her own little boy suffering with the same mental illness? "You-you live inside his head? You are an alter? My Ronny boy has a fuckin' alter?! What the hell? How can this be possible? Why would he let you out—there's nothing wrong in his life! I don't understand how the fuck this is happening right now," she yells, nearly spilling her coffee from how bad her hands are shaking.

Nicky grabs her hands, stroking them soothingly with her thumbs. "Calm down, babe, calm down. There's gotta be a reasonable explanation for this," she warmly says, kissing her temple. Her eyes avert back up and across to their son with worry overpowering them, "So, Kieran, can ya maybe tell us what you're doin' out here? Ronny's kinda gotta go to school today."

"School? Oh no, Ronny ain't goin' today—I'm gettin' him in with Doctor Mendoza," Lorna shakes her head, taking her phone from her pocket, and beginning to dial the Hispanic therapist's number.

Sighing, Kieran slightly shrugs his shoulders. "Okay, honestly, he didn't really let me out…I just figured I'd slip out here for a bit while he was sleeping—I've always wondered what it's like in the world he lives in. And yes, I am one of his alters; there's a few others. I don't have many answers to give you as to why we're here—not when Ronny has no clue, either."

Lorna feels ill to hear all this. She immediately gets up and leaves the room—she can't handle this right now, she needs to get away from him. To keep her mind off of her son's fractured mind, she slowly walks down the hallway to Lola's room and quietly opens the door. Her heart melts at how peaceful her daughter looks in her sleep, it almost makes her feel bad for having to wake her from it. "Lola, my love, it's time to get up," Lorna warmly says, sitting at the edge of the bed as she gently shakes the child.

Grunting, Lola shakes her head and tries to bury herself further into the blankets. "N-no, momma…I don't wanna wake up, too early," she grumbles, squeezing her eyes tightly shut to shield them from the light.

"Ya gotta get up—ya got school. Just cause your friend is here for the week don't mean ya getta stay up all hours of the night and skip school. Now, come on, get up and get dressed. I'll put some waffles in the toaster for you and Nita while ya guys are getting ready," the Italian mother gently says, staring down at her daughter with a loving smile. She gives a warm kiss to her forehead before parting the room to head back to the kitchen.

* * *

After dropping Lola and her friend off at school, Nicky drives her wife and son to the therapist's office. She peaks over at Lorna, noticing the slight guilt that seems to be emanating off of her face. A sigh escapes her at that; she gently uses her free hand to cover over top her wife's, "No matter what we find out, none of it is because of you. So, whatever guilty thoughts you're having—get rid of them. You have given Ronny a happy childhood, baby. You're one of the best mother's out there."

Exhaling a sigh, Lorna shakes her head while staring across at the redhead. How else could her son have developed the same mental illness if it isn't from her? It sickens—absolutely sickens—her to learn that Ronny's suffering the same problem. "It's definitely my fault that he has this! I fuckin' gave him my illness—my own sweet little boy has to deal with the same thing I do! It makes me physically ill to know that he has alters inside of him—what happened to my baby?! What the fuck? It just makes no sense!" She cries out, peaking back at Ronny—who seems to be tuning everything out with his headphones dangling from his ears.

"Sweetie, there's no way he got it from you. This is a mental illness—it wasn't like he just caught it from ya, kid. That's why we're taking him to see Gloria. She'll help us figure out what's going on and how the hell he ended up with the same issue. But I swear to ya, baby, you did not give it to him," Nicky's voice firmly assures her. She squeezes her hand tightly in her own, smiling sympathetically over at her. There's no way she's going to allow her wife to even think about blaming herself for this.

* * *

Ronny's brown eyes pop open to find that he's not in his room or even at his house. He looks around and notices that he's in an office of some sort with his mothers each sitting on one side of him. Arching his eyebrows in confusion, he stares over at Lorna with a questioning look. "Uh, mom, where are we? And why are the two a ya here? I'm so confused," he inquiries.

Wrapping a soothing arm around his shoulder, Lorna gives him a sympathetic stare. "I made you an appointment with my therapist, Ronny. You woke up this morning and told me and ma that your name is Kieran. Which, somehow, means you might have the same problem as me. I'm so sorry, my sweet boy," she sadly tells him, running a comforting hand through his thick brown curls.

Scrunching his face up, Ronny stares at his mother in disbelief. "What the hell do ya mean ya want me to see some therapist? I ain't got no problems, mom. And I ain't sayin' a damn thing to her. This is a big waste of time," he groans with a slightly irritated tone to his voice. He can't seem to make sense of all this—the Kieran person, who claims to be a part of him and how there's possibly more parts. It all baffles him and seeing a therapist this soon just makes it all feel too overwhelming.

"Hey, quit with that language. We know you're upset and confused about this, Ronny, but that doesn't mean ya needa be swearing. Doctor Mendoza is a very nice therapist, she won't make ya talk about stuff ya aren't ready to," Nicky firmly states but gives a comforting pat to his hand.

The door to the room opening interrupts their conversation—Doctor Mendoza comes in and sits down at her desk. She gives a sympathetic smile to the three of them, feeling a bit concerned to see that this appointment is for her usual patient's son. "You must be the little Ronny your two moms have always talked about…though, from the looks of it, you're not that little anymore, are you?" She lightly questions, hoping to ease him into opening up about what's going on.

Ronny only shrugs his shoulders, refusing to say anything. He's not participating in a therapy session that he feels he doesn't even need. His foot taps impatiently against the floor underneath him.

"He sure isn't little anymore," Lorna answers when she sees that her son isn't even attempting to act interested. She lets out a sad sigh, grabbing his hand in hers and stroking it delicately. "He's sixteen years old already…and driving—I can't hardly believe it." Her fingers brush comfortingly along Ronny's knuckles.

Nodding with a friendly smile, the Hispanic therapist looks between her two patients. Her eyes land on Ronny, staring kindly in his direction. "You must be pretty excited about that, yes? Do you have your own car?" Gloria tries her best to entice the young teenager to participate in the conversation. She understands going to therapy isn't any teen's dream, but she also knows how important it is for him to start now rather than waiting and allowing the illness to progress.

Exhaling a deep breath, the brunette teenager slightly nods his head. "Kinda, I guess. I just got a job so I can help pay for the car," he briskly replies. His eyes peer down at the ground; the small talk is only making him feel more agitated about being here. "What's the point a this? I really don't wanna be here, ya know? I should be in school right now. I'm gonna be so behind when I go back tomorrow—thanks to this waste of an appointment!"

"Ronny, calm down. Don't be rude; she's here to help ya," Lorna softly says, squeezing his hand warmly in her own. She gives an apologetic glance towards the therapist.

Gloria just sympathetically smiles at her and nods her head knowingly. "I understand your frustration, Ronny," she gently starts off while getting out a blank sheet of paper. She stares across at him, compassion radiating in her eyes. "No teenager wants to go through therapy, I know. But your moms are doing a good thing by having you come here. It's better to start when you're young than to wait until things get too overwhelming."

"There's _nothing_ wrong with me though! What the hell do I need therapy for?" Ronny frustratingly grunts out, folding his arms over his chest.

"Denying it isn't going to help with the healing process," Doctor Mendoza kindly informs him. "I know it must be scary for you to be dealing with a mental issue at your young age, but not acknowledging that it's there will not do you any good. Your mom has been a patient of mine since she was in her early twenties, and she always said how she wished she had the opportunity to go to a therapist when she was in high school."

Ronny shakes his head, the anger continuing to build up inside him. He just realized his problem the night before and already he's being forced into therapy. It's not fair, he thinks; he's barely had any time to digest the news. And, if it weren't for that Kieran making an appearance this morning, he knows he wouldn't be stuck sitting in this office right now. "This is that stupid Kieran's fault—that son of a bitch, if he woulda just stayed inside my head, I'd be at school right now," he growls.

Jotting some notes down, the therapist looks up at him with a concerning expression. "Who's Kieran?" She gently asks, even though she already knows. She figures if she questions him about it that eventually he'll learn to trust her and be more willing to discuss his illness.

"I don't fuckin' know," he rolls his eyes, scraping his nails impatiently against the top of the desk. "Some guy who claims to live inside my head—he calls himself an alter as if I know what that is! Bullshit is what that is."

"You don't know what an alter is?" Gloria carefully questions him, getting an angry head shake in response. She sighs. "Well, let me first explain to you what you have. You have a mental illness called Dissociative Identity Disorder, the same thing your mom suffers from. This illness causes your mind to break into different personality parts and these other personalities are usually referred to as alters. They hold traumatic memories from things you might have gone through as a very young child. You won't remember these events because your other personalities won't allow you access to them—that's one of the reasons you're going to need to come to therapy. So we can work through the events that caused your mind to fracture in this way."

Shaking his head fiercely, Ronny stares at her as if she has two heads. "Nothing fucking happened to me. This is such bullshit! I'm leaving, fuck this shit," he yells, getting up from the chair and running out of the room.

Before the two mothers have the chance to run after him, Gloria shakes her head slowly. "Just give him a few minutes to calm down. He seems to be very overwhelmed with all this right now, he needs time to gather himself. We'll stop the session for today and the three of you can come back another day. We don't want to push him into this. Let's make an appointment for two weeks from now, does that sound good?" She gets out an appointment card to write down the necessary information.

The two younger women silently nod their heads, taking the card, and thanking her before they leave the office.

* * *

Once their back home—and Ronny's locked himself away in his room—Lorna grudgingly sits herself down in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. Her heart feels heavy; she can't comprehend the fact that her own son, her little boy, has the exact same illness she has. What bothers her even more is that he somehow had to have endured something traumatic to end up with it. And that, she realizes, is quite baffling to understand—he's never dealt with anything in his childhood, nothing that could bring on this diagnosis…unless, something happened for those few months that he lived with his father.

The thought has Lorna's face drain of all color. Those few months spent with Vinny, her son was only a baby – not even two years old. She's sick to her stomach thinking of what could have possibly been done to her baby. She feels the need to gag and immediately runs into the bathroom, finding herself heaving over the toilet.

Nicky hears her from the living room and immediately comes in, kneeling beside her. She places a soft hand on her back, patting it tenderly as she gazes worriedly down at her, "What's the matter, baby? Are ya comin' down with the flu?" Her hand rubs soothingly up and down her wife's back.

Lorna roughly shakes her head, retching harshly into the toilet. After it finally eases up, she flushes it and goes to clean herself. She turns to Nicky, staring up at her with pained eyes. "It's sickening to me, Nicky," she slowly begins, "My baby has the same fucking mental illness and I don't – I don't fucking know why! The only time he wasn't with me was-was those three months his father had him…and-and he was just a baby then, w-what the fuck happened to my Ronny boy?! How could Vinny hurt my baby?!"

Taking her distressed wife into her arms, Nicky gently brings her to their room and lays down in the bed with her. She lays Lorna softly against her body, peering tenderly down into her eyes. "Vinny's a piece of shit—he fucking deserves to rot in hell. He's probably the reason our son is suffering with the same thing and that is absolutely horrifying. We're gonna get to the bottom of this, Lorna, and when we do, Vinny will be sent to prison for the rest of his life. He fucking hurt you and Ronny, that scum-fuck!" Her fingers brush lovingly along the smaller woman's cheeks; she peers empathetically down at her, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

"He ain't gettin' away with this, believe me. I'm gonna pay that fucker a visit and kill him; he deserves to die for touching my little boy!" Lorna screams, her hands tightening into fists at her sides.

Wrapping her arms as snug as she can around her, Nicky sighs. She presses her lips against Lorna's temple to try to calm away some of the anger. "Lorna, babe, that's not the way to deal with this. I know he doesn't deserve to live for hurting Ronny but I also don't want you going to prison for committing murder. Remember, we almost had that happen several years ago…we don't need a repeat, kid. We'll do this the right way and have the police deal with him," she gently says, running her hand through the brunette's dark hair.

Lorna abruptly shakes her head. "The police—the fuckin' _POLICE_? Are ya fuckin' kidding me, Nicky? Since when have the police ever done anything to help us? They fucking—they-they let my brother get away with molesting and abusing me! And Vinny—he raped me and them police officers did nothin' bout' it and ya think I'm gonna trust them to punish my son's abuser? Fuck no, I'm killin' him myself! And while I'm at it, I'll kill Mikey too!" She starts throwing pillows angrily to the floor, trying to work out some of the anger she's feeling.

"Lorna, ya need to calm down," the redhead lovingly says, pulling her back down to her chest. Her arms wrap tightly around her small waist. She gives a comforting kiss to the top of her head. "Baby, I'm not lettin' ya kill anyone. I don't care how much they deserve it—I'm not allowing ya to do something that will only hurt you and the kids. Mikey may not be in prison for the fuckin' shit he's done to you but he's still gonna be rottin' in there for 'stabbing' Vinny. But sweetie, did ya really go to the police after Vinny raped you? Weren't ya kinda having some issues with your mental illness at that point?"

"Police didn't do shit about my brother so I figured they'd never do anything to Vinny… and I'm right. This is all my fucking fault—I should have never let Vinny take my son for those three months! I need to go see him, Nicky, I need to kill him. _I want him dead_ ," Lorna growls with venom. Her hands grip tightly onto her wife's shoulder as her brown eyes peer up into the other's with deep anger pouring out.

Cupping her head in her arms, Nicky shakes her head and places a gentle kiss on her lips. She runs her hand lightly through her hair while peering down at her with warmth in her big eyes. "I want you to calm down, babe. You're not going anywhere; I fucking refuse to let you do anything to get yourself into trouble. Killing Vinny isn't going to undo all the pain he's caused to you and our son, kid. It'd only add to the hurt," she kindly informs her, brushing her lips lovingly across her cheeks.

Carefully laying Lorna's head back onto her chest, Nicky peers warmly down at her. "How bout' ya try to nap for a bit, yeah? I think you'll feel better if ya do, baby. You'll think more clearly and realize that murder isn't the answer," the redhead lightly suggests, running a hand along her face as she continues to look softly into her eyes.

* * *

Loud banging on the door of their house has both wives awaken in the early hours of the afternoon. They both quickly get out of bed and hurry into the living room to open it. When Lorna sees that it's her sister, she feels somewhat relieved. "Fran, what on earth are ya doin' here?" She cautiously questions, a bit of concern showing on her face. It's not like the older woman to just drop by their house unannounced like this.

"I had the pleasure of running into filthy ass Vinny this morning and thought I would warn ya that he's trying to file for custody of Ronny. He also thought he'd try telling me that he'll definitely win custody over him—I was about ready to punch that son of a bitch," the taller brunette angrily tells her younger sister, walking into the house and sitting with the two of them on the couch.

Rage begins to boil within her. Lorna slams her fist harshly against the wall behind her and shakes her head furiously. "Like fuckin' hell that dick-face is coming anywhere near my little boy! _I'll kill him_ before he even has the chance to grab him! He is not allowed anywhere near my Ronny boy not after whatever the fuck he did to him," she seethes, gritting her teeth harshly. Over her dead body will she ever let her son go near Vinny again.

Hearing that, Franny gives a worried gaze over to her sister. "What did he do to Ronny? He hasn't had him since he was a baby, Lorn… What are ya talkin' about?"

Taking her wife's shaking hands into her own, Nicky sighs and decides to answer for her. "We're not entirely sure exactly what Vinny's done to him, but he had to of done something fucking horrific—we found out this morning that Ronny has the same mental illness as Lorna. He fuckin' has his own set of alters, and we have no fucking clue how he developed this! It has to be from those three months he lived with his father—Lorna and I certainly didn't a damn thing to hurt him, we've always made sure his childhood was happy and innocent," she squeezes Lorna's tremoring hand tightly in her own, brushing her thumb lovingly over her knuckles.

"Ronny has DID too? You can't fuckin' be serious," Franny gasps. She crosses her arms over her chest, staring between the two women in disbelief. "No shit it's because of Vinny—you two would never do a thing to hurt either of your two kids. That fuckin' dickhead—what the fuck kinda person is he to hurt his own son— _a baby at the time?!_ Oh hell, we need to call the police; we need to get his ass in prison!"

The sound of footsteps approaching the living room has the three of them instantly quiet down. They look up to see Ronny standing there with anger in his brown eyes. "Ya know I can hear everything you're saying?" He stares darkly at them, clearly agitated. "There is nothing fucking wrong with me, I don't care what you or the therapist says! I'm _fine_!"

"Why are ya denying it, _Ronald_?" Lorna frustratingly questions her son.

Punching his fist hard into the wall, Ronny lets out an irritating grunt. "The last fucking thing I need in my life is a damn mental illness, mother! I already have enough goddamn problems in school, I don't fucking need this shit too! And the fact that you three are blaming whatever illness this is on my father only makes this all worse—I've never even fucking met the man, how he could he be the cause?!"

"Stop with all the swearing," the Italian mother carefully says, her face softening with a deep bout of concern. She slowly gets up from the couch and walks over to her son, taking him into her arms. "What's going on in school, sweetheart? Are kids being mean to ya or somethin'? Ronny, you lived with him for a few months when you were just a one-year-old…he mighta done somethin' to hurt ya and that's why ya got this illness too—I know ya don't wanna have it; I don't want you to either, love, but denying it won't make it go away."

"That's bullshit. My dad wouldn't hurt me, what the hell? I would remember if he did. Stop lying, mom— _all of you_ stop. I'm gonna find my dad and prove to all a ya just how wrong you are. I'm leaving, I'm sick of this," Ronny pulls harshly out of his mother's embrace and quickly runs out the door—slamming it loudly behind him.

Lorna balls her hands into fists, standing up to follow after him. A hand pulls her back down and she looks in annoyance over at Nicky, who's death grip on her hand stops her from getting back up. "Just give him time to cool off, babe. It's not like he knows where Vinny lives or anything, so don't start panicking. Let's just give him some space. I'm sure he'll be back soon and won't feel as angry," Nicky tenderly assures her wife, rubbing her knuckles soothingly over with her thumb.

Nodding on the other side of her, Franny gives her sister a comforting pat on the head. "That's a good idea, let him go for a bit. I'll have Tommy text him to see how he's doing—maybe the two of them can go for a drive or somethin', that might help calm him down. And make ya feel less worried. There's no way he'll find Vinny, Lorn, he's never seen him before."

"Do that, have him find Ronny and take him somewhere—the last thing we need is for him to actually find his father," Nicky answers before Lorna even has the chance to open her mouth.

* * *

It's nearly four o'clock in the evening when Lola and Nita arrive home from school. The two giggly friends enter the house, throwing their bookbags onto the floor and running into the kitchen. "Mom? Ma? Where ya at? Me and Nitz are home and we's starvin'," the curly brunette yells out, looking around the room for her two mothers.

"Stay here, I'll go check to see if they're in their room," Lola says before making her way down the hallway. She stops in front of the door, knocking quite loud against it. "Hey mothers, your beloved daughter is home from school—care to come out and greet her?"

"We'll, uh, be out in a minute sweetie," Lorna's voice calls out through the bedroom. "Why don't ya get a snack for you and Nita? Might be a while before dinner."

Lola shrugs her shoulders, happily skipping her way back to the kitchen. She quickly plows through the cupboards for something sugary and unhealthy—that she knows her moms, especially Lorna, would never let her have—for a snack. "Looks like we gotta get ourselves a snack today, my moms seem to be busy doing stuff—ya like almond cookies, right?" The eleven-year-old asks, getting out two packs of the very treat and placing them on the table.

Nodding, Nita chuckles. "I bet they're doing naughty things—that's what my parents do when they lock themselves in their bedroom," she nonchalantly suggests as she happily takes the snack being offered to her.

Lorna walks into the kitchen, fifteen minutes later, and gives a warm smile to both girls. "The two a ya have a good day at school?" She asks while walking to the counter to get a pot from underneath the sink. With the pot in one hand, she uses her other one to turn on the water and lets it run into it. Once it's filled all the way up, she carries it over to place on the stove.

The two friends nod enthusiastically, sharing a bubbly smile with one another as they finish up their cookies. Lola takes the scraps over to the trash can to throw them away. She turns to look up at her mother with a beaming grin on her face, "I'm almost as tall as ya, momma! Can ya believe that? You're real short!" The curly brunette child exclaims, wrapping her arms tight around her mother for a much-needed embrace.

"I know ya are, hon—you're just growing too fast!" The Italian mother gives her a warm smile—one that doesn't quite make it to her eyes—and squeezes her tight in her arms. "The two a ya wanna help me get dinner ready?"

Nodding, Lola releases the embrace and goes over to pick out her favorite box of pasta from the cupboard that hangs above the microwave. "Where's ma? And Ronny? Weren't you and ma in the bedroom together—doing important mom stuff together?" Both she and Nita can't contain their laughter at this.

Eyes wide, Lorna stares sternly towards her daughter with her arms crossed over her chest. "And what exactly is this _mom stuff_ the two a ya think we were doing? Anyway, your ma went to the bakery to make sure those new employees of hers are actually doing their jobs. Ronny's out with your cousin—so it'll just be us three for dinner tonight."

"Well, it's a known rule that when parents lock themselves in their rooms together that they're obviously doing some naughty things," Nita bluntly answers, a laughing smirk displayed across her face.

"Is that right, Nita? You're way beyond your age, sometimes," Lorna chuckles, shaking her head. She takes the box of pasta from her daughter and pours it into the boiling water. It makes her happy to see that at least one of her children has been able to find such a close friend like her Lola has. Sure, the blonde eleven-year-old isn't the exactly the friend she imagined her daughter to have but, nonetheless, Lorna knows she'll probably always be there for Lola and that's all she can really ask for, for her.

* * *

Nicky arrives at the bakery, a bit surprised to see how busy it is. She cautiously enters the building, not sure what she's about to walk into. Hiring teenagers to keep it in tact during the evening hours might not have been the best decision she's made—Red will probably kill her when she comes home from her trip to Russia. Her eyes widen in disbelief when she sees all the tables are filled with rowdy teenagers and a band is playing in the corner of the shop.

"What the hell is this shit?" She roughly shouts, making her way to the back. Her eyes search angrily for the two youngsters she left in charge of her beloved bakery. When she finds them—sitting in the break room, seeming to be snorting some sort of powder through a straw, she yanks them out of the chairs and glares darkly down at them. "What the fuck do ya two bozos think you're doing? This is your _job_ —and you're fuckin' sitting back here taking drugs? And letting your dumbass high school friends trash my ma's bakery?! What the hell is wrong with you?"

She yanks them with her back into the main part of the bakery and motions for them to tell everyone to leave. Her eyes get even bigger when she recognizes that Ronny happens to be sitting at one of the tables with an unfamiliar girl. Anger continues to boil up in her, she rushes over to him and harshly pulls him out of his chair. "What the actual hell do you think you're doing in this mess, Ronald? Your mother and I have been sitting at home worried fucking sick about where ya could be—and here ya are havin' yourself a good time at _our_ bakery, just lettin' these teenage dumbasses make a mess of it?!"

Ronny's face reddens in embarrassment, he can't even look at the girl sitting at the table anymore. The last thing he needed to happened today is for his girlfriend to find out about his two mothers. "Could ya keep your voice down, ma? Jesus Christ, the whole fuckin' shop can hear ya and I really don't need that," he growls, staring daggers at the older woman.

"You want me to keep my voice down?" Nicky gives him a look—one that seems to ask as if he's serious about that. She grips even tighter on his shoulders, staring sternly up at him, "I don't care who the fuck hears what I say—this is our families bakery, and you allowed these fuckin' shitheads to destroy the hell outta it! How could ya do that, Ronny? You better hope to God that ya didn't take any a the drugs these people brought it in—you'll be dead sorry if ya did!"

She shakes her head in disappointment, and turns to glare at the rest of the teens. "All a ya dumbasses better get the fuck outta my bakery _right now_! I swear to God ya better scram before I fuckin' call the police," she yells out. Instantly, the building fills with the sound of shoes jogging their way out of there.

Before the furious redhead can say another word to her son, a young man rushes over to them with a desperate look on his face. He shakes his head profusely as he stares up at Nicky, "This ain't Ronny's fault, aunt Nicky—we showed up here and it was already like this, there wasn't nothin' much we could do bout' it. And he didn't touch a single drug, he's good kid. Besides, none a us Morello's are into that kinda stuff. Don't be too harsh on him—sounds like he's been havin' a rough day."

Nicky lets out a sigh. She gives a long look over her son, noticing how exhausted and fed up he seems. Her arms gently wrap around him and pull him in for a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry, kid; I know today hasn't been the greatest…not for anyone of us. I didn't mean to put the blame on ya, Ronny—this just, it's Nonna Red's bakery and the fact that some sleazy ass teenagers felt the need to do this shit, that fuckin' makes my skin boil," she softens her voice, looking up into her son's drained eyes.

"How bout' the two a ya help me get this cleaned up and then we'll head home, yeah? I'm sure momma will have some dinner waitin' for ya." Her fingers brush softly through his bushel of curls.

The girl—who'd been sitting at the table with—comes over, staring at Ronny in confusion and (most importantly) disgust. "What's this lady mean about you havin' two mothers, Ronny? You can't be serious—that's not right! That's a sin, and I can't be datin' some guy who comes from such a sick family. Lesbian mothers raising a son? That's horrifying; how could you keep such a nasty secret from me?" Her ocean blue eyes peer into his with something he's never seen before—something that makes his heart absolutely shatter inside of him.

"Who the hell are ya callin' _this lady_? I'm the owner of this bakery, little girl, ya better watch your mouth. And this sweet, loving, young man is my son—you wanna continue to insult him in front of me? Not a smart idea," Nicky hotly informs her. She gives a cold stare into her eyes, secretly wishing the look would kill her right then and there. "What business is it of yours if he's got two moms or one? What does that have to do with your feelings for him, huh? You're gonna fuckin' base how ya feel about him off who his parents are—are ya that fucking shallow of a person?"

"Daddy won't let me date some product of homosexual parenting," the girl snootily replies, backing away from them. "And I wouldn't want to anyway—he can't possibly be a real man if he's be raised by two women!"

Nicky's face slowly starts to turn beet red with the amount of anger she's feeling. "Oh yeah? If _daddy_ told ya to jump off a bridge, would ya do that too? You're not worthy of my son's love anyway, ya little shit! Ronny's more of a man than your father probably could even dream to be—so why don't ya just go run back to your safe – _narrow-minded_ – little home and never come near this bakery again…or my son," she yells, practically pushing the girl out the door.

* * *

The opening of the kitchen door has Lorna immediately jump from her place on the couch and hurry to see who it is. A sigh of relief is released when she sees that it's just her wife and son—the last thing she needed today would be an unexpected visitor. The sight of tear stains on Ronny's face, and died-down anger on her wife's immediately alarms her. "Ronny, what happened? Where were ya at, hon?"

She slowly edges closer to him, placing a tender hand on his cheek as she looks worriedly into his pained brown orbs. "Please don't tell me ya actually met your father! He hurt ya, didn't he sweetie?" She presses a comforting kiss on his forehead, pulling him in for a strong embrace.

"Ma met my girlfriend—probably ex now," the brunette teen tiredly answers. "I told ya she wouldn't be okay with my two moms."

Holding him tighter, Lorna rubs a hand soothingly up and down his back. "I'm sorry, my love. But she's obviously not good enough for ya if she can't accept that. And ya better just be glad it was ma who was with ya instead of me, woulda been one last girl in the world if I'd been there."

Ronny shakes his head, slightly pulling away from the hug and staring over at the redhead with an almost unnoticeable smile on his face. "I don't know bout' that, mom. Ma seemed about ready to chop her head off. Anyway, I think I'm just gonna call it a day and head to bed—I'm so drained," he confirms, giving one last squeeze to his mother. "I love ya both, moms—see ya in the mornin'."

Once he's out of the room, Nicky instantly grabs a tight hold of the brunette and leads her outside to sit on the porch. She wraps an arm lovingly around the smaller woman's waist, pulling her onto her lap. "I _did_ almost chop her head off, kid. Fuckin' little bitch thinks she was so tough insulting our Ronny in fronta me. Besides, ya shoulda seen the broken look on his face when she was sayin' all that shit. Anyone woulda wanted to beat her for that," she grits her teeth, trying to let the anger sizzle away. Her lips press lovingly along her wife's head.

"I'm real glad ya were there for him, hon," Lorna warmly says, wrapping her own arms snug around her neck as nuzzles herself against her. She strokes her fingertips lightly around the taller woman's skin, making little hearts. "Is that why ya look so mad, sweetie? Did anything else happen?"

Looking softly down at her wife, Nicky can't help but smile. No matter how horrible the day is, having Lorna with her always makes a smile form on her face. She wraps her arms tighter around her and leans her head back against the swing. "That can wait until tomorrow to be discussed…right now I just wanna sit out here and enjoy holding my beautiful wife," she gives a delicate kiss on the top of the brunette's head.

Smiling as well, Lorna looks lovingly up at her—brushing her lips affectionately across Nicky's. "I like that idea, hon. Today's been a hellish day; sitting here with you sounds like a heavenly way to end it. It's nice to take a break from thinking about all the stressful things that are going on in our lives right now."

"All that shit can wait to be dealt with in the morning; I just wanna snuggle you and watch the sunset," Nicky honestly states, her chin lightly resting atop the tip of Lorna's head as she holds her close in her arms. "I love you so damn much, baby."

"I know, Nicky; I love you just as much, sweetheart…if not, even more," the brunette smirk, peppering kiss all along Nicky's cheeks.

Nicky laughs, shaking her head, "Oh horseshit, that's impossible. No one loves more than I love you. I would take a million bullets for ya, kid. You're my whole fuckin' life." She huskily says into her ear, stroking her hand through Lorna's brown waves of hair.

"Why would ya need to take bullets for me, Nicky? Oh dear God, my-my brother's gonna try to kill me—is that what you're hintin' at?" Lorna's eyes widen in fear, she clutches tightly onto Nicky's body.

"Whoa, whoa there…Lorna, calm down. No one is trying to kill anyone here," Nicky soothes, staring worriedly down into her wife's frightened eyes. She cups her hands lovingly around the brunette's face, stroking it delicately with her fingers. "It's just an innocent saying, baby. Don't get yourself all worked up about it. Your brother is in prison, anyway, love—there's no way he can come anywhere near ya."

Lorna takes a deep breath, still not loosening her grip any on her wife. She buries herself in her body and slightly shakes her head, "No, Nicky…he's kinda not in prison. I kinda forgot to mention that when Vinny came over the other day, he-he said he told the police that Mikey didn't stab him—he said that he did it to himself. And Vinny said Mikey's real mad at me; he's gonna find me and make me regret ever putting the blame on him!"

Her eyes darken. Nicky pulls her closer, staring down at her with a stern look. "Baby, ya shoulda told me this! How can I fuckin' keep ya safe when ya keep shit like this from me? That asshole ain't comin' anywhere near you or our family, absolutely not. He's not getting his filthy hands anywhere near my Lorna. I'll slice his dick of if he even tries," she growls, tightening her hold on Lorna. She presses her lips soothingly against her forehead, slowly moving the swing back and forth with her legs. Soon enough, the calming motion lures both women into a peaceful rest.


End file.
